


Lexus

by theshopislocal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Child Neglect, John Winchester’s A+ parenting, M/M, Prostitution, destiel if you reeeally squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:02:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29915247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshopislocal/pseuds/theshopislocal
Summary: Once, when Dean was sixteen or seventeen - he doesn’t quite remember, it was a lot of whiskey neats ago - he had sex with a man for money.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 9





	Lexus

Once, when Dean was sixteen or seventeen - he doesn’t quite remember, it was a lot of whiskey neats ago - he had sex with a man for money.

Dad was ostensibly on a hunt (more likely a bender), and had left Dean fifty bucks to feed him and Sam for the three or so days he’d be gone. Three days came and went - and four, and five. When day six rolled around - by which point Dean had outstayed (and outplayed) his welcome at the only two pool halls in town that didn’t card him - he found himself pacing back and forth outside a dilapidated pawn shop, trying to decide if hocking his consecrated balisong was worth the measly two days it would buy him and Sammy at the no-tell. Or maybe he’d spend it on food, and they could find a park somewhere to rough it? Temps had dropped down to the low thirties at night, but he figured he and Sam could handle it if they got some grub to tide them over.

It was just as he turned toward the road, thinking he’d steal Sammy a couple candy bars from the Circle 7, that Dean saw him.

_ Lexus. _

Lexus wasn’t his real name, of course. That’s just what Dean called him in his head, as he never got the man’s name - never got any information really, except that he drove an ugly beige ES300. 

Said monstrosity was idling by the curb, passenger side window rolled halfway down, when the unremarkable forty-something guy inside said, “Are you, uh. Are you workin’ tonight?”

It took Dean about ten seconds to figure what the guy meant, another ten to be amused, confused, and appalled, by turns - and another ten for a hunger cramp to seize his intestine.

The room Lexus rented for them was shabby but clean, with a comforter that smelled like smoke and industrial detergent. Lexus touched Dean cautiously, as though he might break, smoothing his hands over the planes of Dean’s body. He kissed the knobs of Dean’s spine and pressed forward slowly, murmuring praises under his breath. He got Dean off first, pumping in quick strokes, then gasped around a smile when he came, eyes stuck to Dean like glue. Afterwards, he whispered in Dean’s ear that the room was paid through til noon, and he left $150 on the nightstand, even though they’d agreed on $100.

Lying supine on the bed after Lexus had left, Dean figured he ought to feel something. Shame, maybe? Or disgust? Instead, he found himself splaying his fingers on the stiff sheets and arching his back, basking in the afterglow - not of the sex, but of the affection.

He slept for ten hours, had no dreams, and came back to Sam with a broad smile and five boxes of Lucky Charms.

-

Dean never told anyone that. Not his dad, not Sam, not Bobby - no one. But he thinks someone knew. Someone who had saved his miserable life. Someone who had rebuilt his broken body. Someone who had held his wasted soul in perfect, inhuman hands. 


End file.
